Descent Into Hell
by The Mominator
Summary: When tragedy strikes, sometimes your life can spin out of control. Character death. This is the result for my alternate ending to Charade. Check out the A/N. This story has two endings.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This fic is for those who crave....heart-wrenching stories filled with drama, angst and tragedy. Yes, I know you are out there. Just remember that I am the Queen of the Happy Ending.**

**A big, big THANK YOU to The Confused One for her encouragement and help with this story.**

**The first section of this story starts in the present. How he got into this situation is told to you by Bobby. My first attempt at first person.**

******Descent into Hell**

**September 2007**

Once again the old, beaten, and battered couch served as my bed last night. The run down apartment building that I now call home sits in a part of the city that the NYPD hates to venture, me included once upon a time. My new acquaintances and roommates, Jake and Ashley are lying on the floor. I step over them as they never made it to their bedroom either.

On my way to the bathroom I light a cigarette, coughing constantly with each step I take and each drag. I need the security of the wall to steady myself as I stand next to the bowl. I place my hand on the wall to brace myself, my body is tired and I am as beaten and battered as that old couch. The cigarette dangles in my mouth as I watch the stream flow into the bowl, wondering if that is the last of the beer that I drank yesterday, for my lunch and dinner. I drop the cigarette into the water then lower the lid.

Personal hygiene has been non existent in my life for months now. The only thought now is of the warm and soothing feeling that my body is craving. I lower myself onto the seat and sit down. I can prepare the syringe, with my eyes closed. Being shirtless I can avoid one step. I wrap the tube around my arm, veins are still easy for me to find. The syringe drops to the floor as I sit back on the only seat in the room while the drug courses through my body.

Soon after I am in the kitchen searching for a morsel of food, nothing much to speak of. I turn toward the so-called living room when I hear a groan, Ashley is stirring. I abandon the kitchen and stand in the middle of the room, watching as the skinny, bra less twenty-seven year old sits up. She stretches and her breasts expand. Exciting to me? No, not anymore, the drugs have made my desire for sex non-existent. She was very attractive before drugs took over her life, much like me, so I've been told and twenty-eight year old Jake. She mirrors my movements exactly, soon after she too shuffles into the kitchen looking for a nibble.

Ashley finds me sitting at the cracked, scratched topped and wobbly table that sits in the corner of the little kitchen. I hold up a piece of chocolate, our breakfast.

**March 2006**

I obsessively washed my blood soaked shirt, it was her blood that stained my shirt, four times so far. The thought of throwing it away has not even entered my mind. Remove the blood and it will remove the event, reality tells me that it is not possible but as I toss it into the machine again, my hope is that when the stain is removed she will be alive.

She never made it out of the building, she died in my arms. She spoke to me as I held her body close to mine, "Get that bastard, Bobby," I managed a slight smile. "Don't let him hurt any one else." She raised her tiny hand and placed it around my neck. I tried to answer her but all the moisture from my mouth was now in my eyes, I could only nod. "Behave yourself," her body shuttered, "Promise me," she said with her last breath. She gave me a warm beautiful smile before her body went limp. I can still see her face, even in my fucked up state, her sweet, sweet face. She looked just like a little girl.

I haven't found him, Louis Fulton has by all accounts disappeared, vanished....no one, not even his close associates know where he is, so they say.

Her parents, her siblings, Deakins, and even the brass did not find me at fault for Alex's passing. I however have put all the blame on my shoulders, my only motivation, soon after her death, for getting up in the morning was to do what she asked, to find Louis Fulton.

**May 2006**

The closest I came to finding that man, man? That's a laugh, he's just a slimy, slug of a human being. Was when I got word that Fulton was seen entering the apartment building where Zack Miller, Fulton's long time friend resides. I confronted Miller and he denied having seen Fulton for months. My mannerisms were confrontational but I never lifted a hand to Miller, he started the physical altercation. He picked up a small wooden chair from the kitchen and swung it a few times before it landed on my back. I fell to the floor immediately. Miller panicked for a moment but he did the right thing, he called 911. When the cops arrived at the apartment, the door was open, Miller was gone but I was still there on the floor not wanting to moan, but the pain was excruciating. I managed to show my shield and they were a bit surprised, until they found out who I was and why I was there. They were as pissed off as I that Fulton was still roaming the streets.

To evaluate the degree of my injury a MRI was preformed. A fractured vertebra was detected, and I was sent to surgery immediately. The Doctor informed me that he will have to fuse it to the vertebrae next to it. During the surgery he will have to search and if he finds any bone chips, they will of course be removed, very carefully. Fragments left behind can and will cause damage to the spinal cord, over time.

When I woke up the next morning lying flat on my back in my hospital bed, I was wearing a back brace that the Doctor informed me would be part of my wardrobe for the next six weeks. He prescribed percodan which is a potent compound painkiller used to treat moderate and acute pain. Percodan contains aspirin and oxycodone a potent opioid agonist.

**August 2006**

Yes, I had back pain and yes, the percodan relieved it for awhile, at least until my prescription would no longer be refilled. I needed some relief for this pain. The pain that I was sure was in my back but pain riddled through my entire body. I was not amazed or slightly surprised how easy it was to score any sort of drug. My days in narcotics may have closed down a few dealers, but once one is gone another always takes his place. Pot and alcohol soon became my choice for relieving the pain. I was able to function and was able to keep myself on an even keel. Yes, I was a functioning addict, for awhile.

**October 2006**

Friday evening starts, just like the previous months of Fridays, with a drink at any bar I venture into. Monday morning I raise my body slowly out of my bed, wondering when I got home and amazed that I did. Thankful that this morning, my bed is not shared with a name-less female.

I shuffle to the kitchen and with one eye closed so I can focus I am able to prepare a cup of coffee, no milk or sugar, just a shot of whiskey. "Need something to wake me up," I say aloud. Yes I am becoming very prevalent with excuses for my behavior. As I down my cup of coffee I return to the kitchen to prepare another one then I can take my shower, get dressed and go to work.

I hadn't noticed the message light blinking on my phone. I frown wondering how long it has been blinking. Sipping my second cup of coffee I press on the message button, more than one is left. The first one is from Doctor Adams, one of the physicians at Carmel Ridge. For the past few weeks my mother has been experiencing, fevers, night sweats and weight loss, even though her appetite has remained the same, not that she was ever a big eater. Many tests have been preformed to diagnose what may be wrong. Doctor Adams has called to tell me that they have found the problem. I give the man credit for not blurting it out over the phone, he wants me to call him as soon as possible, that was three days ago. I'll need another cup of coffee for this conversation.

Lymphoma, I repeated the word. She is a fighter but at her age the chances for surviving more than 18 months is rare. Hope, yes there is always hope. The third and last cup of coffee is finished, I take my shower and prepare for my day.

**January 2007**

I turned my back on my older brother when he started using drugs. Meeting him that night at Murphy's bar, was a surprise. We spent most of the night trying to out drink one another.

"What about her?" Frank asks as he points to a brunette.

I stared at the girl for a moment, then turned my body forward, "If you want to wake up in the morning with VD, sure."

Frank laughs as he gestures for the bartender to refill his beer and shot of whiskey. "Ah maybe tonight is not the night." He waits and watches the bartender refill his glasses. He downs the whiskey then takes a sip of beer. "How is your back? You don't seem to be in pain anymore."

"My back?" I asked in surprise, and then it hits me, "Mom told you, when did you see Mom?"

"About two weeks ago, she told me what happened and that...."

I grabbed his arm, "And what?"

"She's worried about you."

"You mean she's upset that I haven't been there." Frank doesn't answer.

Though the whiskey burned my throat, cheap whiskey, I finished my fourth shot and asked for a refill. Was it just the mention of my back that caused the aching sensation that I was now feeling? The whiskey should have me numb by now, but it didn't. I needed something more to get me through the night. I didn't hesitate to ask Frank for a connection; after all I was in his part of town. I couldn't and wouldn't wait, I needed something now. Though he hesitated for a minute he complied and gave me a name.

"You can usually find Roscoe....hell." Frank downs the shot of whiskey, chugs the mug-full of beer then slaps a twenty on the bar next to mine, "Come on I'll take you.

Roscoe, yes the man who would be my salvation, so I thought.

Trying to find the memory in my brain of the first time that I pointed that needle to the vein in my arm is futile, I don't remember. What I do remember is the feeling of euphoria. My God this is it, this is the sensation that I have been searching for....my entire life. I needed and wanted to feel this way forever. My hands and feet felt heavy but that didn't bother me, I was in no hurry to go anywhere. My judgment was clouded, I didn't care. I didn't want to think about my life anyway. But the surreal experience was the icing on the cake.

**….More to Come....**

**….SOON....**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Though one should never assume, but if you are reading this, I guess you are still with me, thanks. One more thing, yes Deakins is the CO, why? Because, though I like Ross, I find Deakins to be a bit more sympathetic. Just my opinion. **

**Anyway....Here we go **

**Chapter Two**

**January 2007**

I woke to find myself in a strange bed, alone. I was thankful for that. I was also relieved that I was fully clothed but where and how I got there, no matter how hard I tried searching my memory, nothing. I sat up slowly and oh so carefully.

"Hey little brother."

Never, was I so happy to see my brother, "Hey Frank," were the only words I could speak. I ran my fingers through my hair and scratched my head as I stood up slowly, "Where," I coughed before I could continue, "Am I?"

He walked through the threshold, "My place, you claimed my bed before I had a chance too."

"What? Is it Saturday?" I asked as I walked past him, on my way to where, I had no clue.

"Yes," he followed me out of the room. "Bathroom is to your right."

"Thanks."

Never did he ask how I was, but then I didn't ask either. After a cup of coffee and a day old donut, I was finally able to recall the events of last night. The one and only memory I wanted to remember was the feeling that, yes...smack, junk, shit, H whatever you want to call it, gave me. The rational part of me was telling me NO, it won't solve anything...Fuck being rational, I wanted more and I wanted it now. I felt a sensation in my back, was it really there? Probably not, once again finding an excuse for my behavior. I needed it to relieve the pain in my back, I repeated to myself.

"Any idea where I can find Roscoe?" I asked, not able to look him in the eye.

"Are you sure?" he asked as a concerned older brother.

I nodded my head more than once, "Yes." I stated firmly, "I'm sure." I looked up at him and he did indeed have a concerned look on his face. I saw my mother in that look. Would she be proud of her sons, I thought. It's my life and I can do what I want, my God I sounded like a spoiled child. I was in pain, not like him. I sat back in the chair that supported my tired and aching body. I asked him again, "Any idea where I can find Roscoe?"

He was struggling with the favor that I was asking. My brother was many things, but stupid was not one of them; he knew that if he didn't tell me where Roscoe was that I would most likely find him myself. "He's a strong, self sufficient guy, he'll get himself out of this." I heard him whisper to himself. For his own feeling of guilt? Maybe.

My brother and I were very close as children, comforting each other through those many nights of chaos that filled our home. As the years went on, he strayed away from not only me but our mother as well. I resented him for that, leaving me to take care of her. In the back of my mind, I always knew that I was more capable of that task and as the years went on, I proved it, if he respected me for it or was grateful for it, he never said.

A year ago, it would have bothered me to see how he lived and whom he was associating. In a small way, I would always feel, when I was around him, that I was better then he was, in every sense of the word. I was always responsible and mature, usually putting my happiness on the back burner. Now I was envious of his free way of living and I was grateful to him for, yes, I had to thank him for introducing me to Roscoe.

Day after day and week after week, I found Roscoe. Since I had no one but myself to spend money on, and still at this point employed, I was able to keep myself satisfied. How much longer that would last. I wasn't sure. Deakins knew, he had too, he was a sharp guy. He was keeping his distance from me, hoping that I could get over it on my own. He didn't want to get the brass involved, but how much longer he could shield me, was anyone's guess. I was living my life day by day, not thinking about tomorrow and not worrying about the day after.

My usual sharp, analytical mind was slowly fading, if others noticed, I had no clue. Eames would have, but she is not here anymore. Most times when I think of her, I refer to her as Eames. Why? To distance myself from her, but no matter how hard I try to tuck the memory of her in the back of my mind, Alex always seems to come through. I stare at the empty chair, no one is worthy, in my eyes to fill it, none of the three partners that I have been assigned were able to fill that void.

Though my days and nights seemed to roll along as one. Every week without fail, I would venture to her grave. Why? What compelled me to go? Is it the need to be as close to her as I can? Maybe, I don't know. I never stayed long, I would clean up the ground, remove old leaves from the headstone then place a pink carnation, which symbolizes, 'I will never forget you', on the ground.

When I woke that cold, sunny morning in March, I knew what day it was. A year ago, on this day she was taken away from me. I managed to get myself together and I went to visit her.

I stood before her headstone, knowing that she could not hear me, I spoke to her anyway. "I brought you two flowers today, a pink carnation and a red carnation." Which symbolize 'my heart aches for you'. I laid them on the ground, stems touching. As I stood up, I heard a noise, thinking that someone was near. I looked around the graveyard, "No one," I said aloud. I turned back at the gray stone before me. An angel was added in the corner, it was not there the last time I was here. "I miss you," I fell to my knees, the ground was hard and cold but I didn't care. "Things are really shitty and you know what?" I had it in my mind to blame her, my Mom, my brother, I couldn't. I knew who was to blame. I wiped my eyes with my hand, "No, it's my fault, no one else to blame but me. Like you said, my wounds are self inflicted. Man, I was pissed off at you for saying that, but you were right."

I stood up slowly, forgetting to brush the dirt from knees. "Hope that angel on your headstone is really next to you."

I raised my head and a snowflake fell onto my face. "Hope it snows this weekend, you said to me that morning. When I asked why, you were a little timid to admit that you had a weekend getaway planned with a guy to go skiing." I lowered my head to once again stare at the angel, "He's not here Alex, I am." The snow started to fall harder, "I better go, before it gets too bad. I'll see you next week." Tapping my body in a vain search for a handkerchief I suddenly became aware that I did not have one; I used my coat sleeve to dry my eyes.

…**.More to Come....**

…**.Soon....**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks to you all for your interest.**

**Three**

**April 2007**

I tore up my apartment looking for the twenty dollar bill I knew I had, wasn't in the mood to walk the three blocks uptown to the ATM and then six blocks downtown for my medication. Yes I found a name for it, to appease myself.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror and stared at the strange man looking back at me. I had it in my mind to smash the mirror with my fist but the powers that be, stopped me. After a search of the kitchen, my bedroom and the bathroom. Why a twenty-dollar bill would be in there? Is anyone's guess, once found the remote in the refrigerator. I began to search my desk.

The photo fell off the desk, face up on the floor, almost as if it was calling to me. I picked it up and stared at it for a long time, I looked healthy and strong and she had a silly but oh so cute smile on her face as she held her nephew in her arms. It took a moment for me to recall when and where the photo was taken and then it hit me, Matthew's 1st birthday party.

I continued to stare at the photo; I could see the love she had for that boy by the glow on her face. His smile was a mile wide and so was mine. I didn't plan it, but as her brother pointed the camera at us, I placed my arm around her shoulder, it seemed the natural thing to do.

"I wish I could trade places with you or invent a way to go back in time, that bullet should have hit me not you. You have placed a huge hole in everyone's heart, even mine." I sat in the chair that is next to the desk. "It's been over a year and people are still grieving for you. Who the hell would grieve for me? No one." A tear fell onto the photo; I wiped it off with my finger. I rubbed my eyes as I sat back in the chair. Were the tears for my own loneliness? Loneliness that I created or for the people who missed her, including me?

Though the rest of my apartment was in shambles I positioned the photo upright on the desk. As I stood up, I saw it, the bill that I had been searching for, out of the corner of my eye.

**May 2007**

No matter how many times my mother has overturned things in my life, she is still my Mom and I love her. She may have worried more, throughout the years, about Frank but I know in my heart that she has always loved me just as much as she does him.

My weekly visits to my Mom have dwindled; it has been close to three weeks since my last visit. She is currently going for treatment on an out patient basis but she continues to live where she has resided for the past ten years, Carmel Ridge.

Even in my fucked up state I am still the one that the doctors call to discuss her care. They spoke to Frank once, after I bellowed at them over the phone to call him. He panicked and call me the same day. Whinnying and almost crying that he was afraid that if he made the wrong decision it would prove fatal to her. I listened to him whine for about five minutes. I calmed him down and told him that I would take care of it, like I have, since I was a kid.

I wonder sometimes as I stare at her sleeping, does she appreciate it or is it just expected of me?

I know that the day she leaves this world, I will be the one holding her hand. Who will hold my hand when I die?

Carmel Ridge, I could drive there with my eyes closed and they way I was feeling now, I might have to. I had to time my departure from the city to a tee, an hour drive to get there, visit for an hour or so and then drive back. Three hours out of my life, I could do it. My own drug-induced ego told me that I looked fine. Fine? Not even close, strangers and acquaintances I could fool, but my Mom? I doubted it, but there was always a chance, I had hope.

When I came upon her door I knocked softly, she heard me and answered, "Come in, it's open."

I complied and opened the door slowly; she turned immediately to see who her visitor was. She looked very tiny standing in the middle of room, donning a floral and flowing silk bathrobe. My Mom wear a cotton bathrobe? Never. Her feet covered with slippers much like ones worn by ballerinas. I was surprised to see her up and about, most times in the last few months she is in or on the bed. Today she seems full of life, one part of me is elated that she seems to be feeling better but the other part of me is a bit apprehensive that she will be as she has been, in the past, very aware of her surroundings. Me, being part of her surroundings.

"Bobby." She said my name sternly and quickly.

I took a step back, much like a child who knew he did something wrong and was surprised as hell that his mother found out about it.

"Hi Mom," I said with as much excitement as I could.

"Never mind that," she walked closer to me and I stood still. She reached up and grabbed my chin, "What have you been doing?"

"What? Doing?" I turned my head away.

She tapped my face lightly, not in anger but to capture my attention, "Look at you, I have cancer and I look better then you."

"I'm just having a rough time, that's all." She knew what I had been through. "My career might be....It's just been a tough few months. I'm good, really I am." I nodded my head hoping to convince myself, would she buy it? I doubted it, but hoped just the same.

"Bull shit!" She exclaimed.

She didn't buy it, I raised my eyebrows, trying to fake surprise, "What bull shit?" _Lie to her. _I said to myself. It was still a hard thing for me to do. I couldn't look her in the eye, I took a few steps and sat in one of the two chairs in the room. "I'll get myself together, don't worry." Get myself together? My life is shattered and split into too many pieces.

I could hear her walking closer, I felt her hand on the top of my head, "You're a strong, self sufficient boy," she said softly but firmly. She sat in the chair that was next to mine. "I know you will, you always do." She patted my leg, her way of letting me know that this particular conversion was over. I could only nod my head.

"Your brother has been to visit, twice in as many months." She said with elation.

The smirk on my face went unnoticed by her, so that's where the money came from, man he hasn't changed, he hasn't gotten his life together, why should I? I wanted to say it aloud but it was futile, she wouldn't want to hear.

We spent a good portion of an hour talking, much like we always do. If she was aware of the drug that I needed and craved day in and day out, she never said. However, she is an intelligent woman and very well read, she knew, maybe not specifically, what I was taking, but she was aware that I was not behaving, as I should. However, she has confidence in me that I would be able to get myself out of this. I was always the responsible one. The younger son, yes, but I could always think for myself. I never followed the crowd. I was the one, who got his first job at fifteen, working for a landscaper. And have had employment of one kind or another since. I always took a great deal of pride in my work and myself….till now. I hated myself for what I had become, but I am a big believer in destiny and if this is what life has handed me, so be it.

Get myself out of this? A small voice in the back of mind told me, not this time Bobby.

I timed my day so that I wouldn't need a fix until I returned to the city, I couldn't and wouldn't wait, I needed it now, alone in the darkness of the parking lot.

…**.More to come….**

…**.Soon….**


	4. Chapter 4

**Four**

**July 2007**

Deakins called me into his office, my days as an employed, functioning addict have ended, functioning? Yeah right. He was aware that I had a problem, like many of the other people that I worked with; after all, they are detectives.

"You're falling apart Bobby." I could tell he wanted to be somewhere else, hell, so did I.

I couldn't deny it or argue with him, yes he was right. I was falling apart; actually, I fell apart months ago. I sat in the chair that I have sat in repeatedly; I took a quick glance to my right and half-expected Eames to be sitting there next to me. Great, I thought to myself, now you're delusional. I had to lower my head to hide the stupid grin I had on my face. When I looked up Deakins was sitting on the edge of his desk.

"Here," he said as he held out a 4 by 6 inch piece of paper.

He had a look on his face that seemed fatherly, my mind wandered, bet he is one hell of Dad to his girls. He said my name again and I shook my head slightly to return to the moment at hand. I started to fidget in the seat. Damn these chairs seem small today.

"There is a room waiting for you," he said.

"A room?" I reluctantly took the paper from his hand and read the words aloud, "Harbor House," it was not what I thought it would say, I thought I was going to be fired. Typical name for a drug treatment center, I thought.

"All you have to do is show up; all expenses will be paid by the NYPD." He noticed the quizzical look on my face, "You are on leave until you, well if you can get yourself together and pass the necessary tests....I....no," he leaned down trying without success to get me to look him in the eye. "Bobby, if you want to come back there will always be a place for you here."

"How many favors did....?"

He stood, "A few, but they were worth it."

"For a job?" I asked solemnly.

He answered immediately, "No," he said sternly, "For you."

I had to admit that, that was nice to hear, would all the people in my life say and feel the same, off hand I couldn't think of anyone. I stretched out my legs and my feet found there way under his desk. I stared at the card, I didn't want to go, what the hell for? To go back to the life that I had before, not much....liar. Day after day messages were left on my phone, men and women who I have befriended throughout the years, all saying the same thing, Bobby, where the hell are you man? Call me. Even Alex's parents were in the mix, John or Sara Eames would call every few days, to ask how I was or invite me for a meal. As with all my friends, for the past few months, I never returned their calls.

I stuffed the paper in my jacket pocket as I stood. "Bobby," Deakins called my name softly. I lifted my head, to let him know I heard him, but couldn't look him in the eye. He stood slowly, pointing to my body, "I need to take your shield and gun," he said with a bowed down head. I reached into my pocket and removed my gold shield. I placed it gingerly on his desk. He picked it up, "You can have this back, if you want it. It's all up to you." I took a step toward him as I removed my gun, from its holster. I stared at it shortly; it might have been quicker just to use this. I shook my head as I placed it atop his desk, no I didn't want to die, not like that. His voice disturbed my thoughts, thank God for that, "Clean bill and you can have them back." He said as he raised his hand to shake mine, "You are not the only cop that has ever had a substance abuse problem."

As he spoke to me I thought, substance abuse problem, what a nice way to describe it, I knew what I was. I shook his hand and I did remember to say thanks, thanks for what? For kicking me out. I wasn't hurting anyone, I was here everyday. Ok, maybe my solve rate wasn't as good as it use to be but shit, everybody has there bad days. Why couldn't he just leave me alone?

"Bobby," he patted my arm, "You have ten days to get your things together, if you are not in the house by then, you pay will cease."

"Ok," was all I said. I agreed with him but I wasn't ready. I knew I could handle it, whatever lay in front of me I could handle it, hell I've been taking care of myself since I was a kid. I offered him my hand and he took it.

"Take care of yourself," he said sincerely.

I nodded my head slowly as I reached for the doorknob. "He's a strong, self sufficient guy; he'll get himself out of this." I heard him say as I closed the door behind me.

People seemed to have a great deal of faith in me for taking care of this on my own. I wondered if Deakins knew exactly what, the thought of what became the thought of when. I didn't think that the money would soon be gone all I had on my mind was, yes it is going on four hours since my last dose of medication.

No personal effects, only books filled my desk. I walked past it and my colleagues and headed for the elevator. Twelve floors and the garage was soon before me. Yes, my salvation awaited me in my car.

I returned to my apartment and was not at all surprised to see Frank, if I looked calm and steady he looked strung out. I brushed past him on my way to the front door, "What do you want?" I asked with much irritation in my voice.

He stuffed his hands deep into his pockets before speaking, "I'm in....I need...."

His stuttering was annoying to me and I hit him in the arm, "Say it damn it." Last year I would have told him to get lost and if he wanted money go ask his Mommy, of course he never would, though she would hand him a twenty now and then he never would tell her why he was in need. Those days are over, I removed the key from the lock and stared at him, how can I judge him? He's been clean for over eight months, however his gambling disease is stronger then ever. "What is it Frank?" I asked pleasantly.

"Can we talk inside?" He stated.

"Yeah sure." I opened the door and gestured for him to enter first.

He paced around my living room, why was he so apprehensive to ask me for a few bucks? Then it hit me, it is more than a few bucks. Yes, my mind has been a bit slow lately, I asked, "How much?"

He shook his head, "No, it's not money." I frowned at him as I tossed my keys onto the coffee table, "I didn't know what he was going to do."

"He, he who?"

He paced, mumbled, and stuttered as he told me his tale, "Where did you meet this guy? How could you be so stupid?" I asked sounding like a concerned parent, I was not concerned and I was not his parent, though sometimes I felt like that, between him and my Mom sometimes I seemed to be the only adult in the mix.

"Stupid?" He stood erect as if he was going to argue with me. His shoulders slumped just as quickly. "I didn't know he was a con-man, he could spill the spiel, sounded a lot like the ole man, a windbag full of shit."

A chuckle surprisingly escaped my lips, "How many people did you two rip off?"

"Four, two couples."

"Did you take your half?" He reluctantly nodded his head. "How much and did you spend it?"

"Five thousand and yes, three hundred bucks so far, stupid horse."

I sat down on the couch as I shook my head, "The best thing for you to do is turn yourself in, plead guilty and testify against...what is his name?"

"Ben Irwin," Frank sat down next to me. "Well that was the name he gave me." He sat back in the couch and propped his feet up onto the coffee table. "You can take me down, right? That way I won't have to spend any time is jail."

I propped my feet next to his, "Ah, no...not right. I've been given'...I'm on leave, till," I sat up too quickly and it seemed to startle him. I reached into my pocket removing my wallet, I handed him a 3 1/2 by 2 inch card. "Here, call Steve he'll help you and go with you."

"Steve? Who is he?"

"He's a friend of mine and a lawyer," I stood up so I could look down on him, so I could feel superior to him? Maybe. "Tell him that you're my brother and tell him the truth about what you did. With luck, maybe the people will take the money back and you will have to pay restitution for the 300 you lost. Or," I said as I began to pace around the room, "You may have to take the whole rap yourself," I had to hit his foot with my hand, he look lost just like a kid. He lowered his feet, "You have to be able to locate this guy for the cops, can you?"

"Yes," he nodded his head as he sat erect, "I can." Frank called Steven Sanchez from my phone and they agreed to meet at his office at nine the next morning. Frank asked me to go, I refused.

He spent the night on my couch, just as I had crashed at his place that night in January. He stayed sober, I however...well every shot in my arm for every bit of life that my family takes from me with their problems, man everyday I came up with more and more excuses.

**....More to Come....**

**....Soon....**


	5. Chapter 5

**Five**

**The Last Week in July 2007**

I felt a tapping on my shoulder and heard a familiar voice calling my name, "Bobby, wake up." The tapping continued. "Bobby," he raised his voice just a tad. I put my arm up and tried to brush his hand away. "Come on man, wake up."

I lifted my head and turned it slowly to face my ole friend. "Lewis," my head fell back onto the pillow, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"You left me a message, remember?" I heard his footsteps walking away from me, "What did you do? Have a party and forget to clean up?" I turned my head to face him as he picked up a carton that weeks ago held a pizza.

"I've been busy," I answered as I slowly lifted my tired body from the couch. I pulled on my shirtsleeves thankful that I fell asleep with a long sleeve shirt on.

"Doing what?" He picked up a pile of old magazines that were on the reclining chair and tossed them onto the floor, "I've been calling and leaving messages, you never call back."

I stood up a bit too quickly and had to steady myself or I would have hit the floor, I could feel him staring. I couldn't and wouldn't look at him, "Sorry I ah," I scratched my bearded face, not that it needed it but to give myself a minute to think of an excuse, I had none. My clever and imaginative mind to LIE; clouded. I walked past where he was sitting not able to look at him as I said as plainly and unemotionally as any man could, "I ne....want to sell the car, can you find a buyer for me."

"Is this a joke," he stood up. "Are you kidding me?"

"No," I answered sharply. I had ventured into the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator in hopes that something inside would be eatable. As I gazed into the bare cold box, I heard his footsteps hit the laminate floor.

"You lost your job, didn't you?

"No," I said as I stared at nothing. "I'm on leave for awhile," I answered easily, it was not a lie. I stood erect as I closed the door. "Well," I turned to face him, "Can you do it?" He didn't speak he just stared at me, looking me over from head to toe.

"What have you been doing? Spending every day drinking," he paused and I watched him as he looked around the room. I knew what he was searching for, though there multiple cans and bottles of beer throughout the room, he was searching for something else. He turned back to face me, "What are you on?"

I brushed past him in a hurry, "I went out last night, had a few beers then came home and finished off a six pack," I said nonchalantly. I could hear him follow me.

I nervously picked up a few remnants of cardboard containers that have been sitting quietly on the floor. For how long? I didn't know. "Can you sell the car for me?"

I could see the anguished look on his face, not for the car but for me. "Sure, I'll take care of it," he answered with a touch of sorrow in his voice. He reached down and picked up a beer can, "I want to help more than that Bobby, will you let me?"

"I'll be alright, I just...." I reached over and patted his arm, "I'm alright." Though he is not the brightest guy I have ever met, he knew I was not alright and he also knew that there was nothing he could do to change that, not on his own anyway.

"I'll have a buyer by the end of the week." He said solemnly as he walked across the room accidentally kicking an empty beer can a few feet. I watched him as he opened the door then stood still for a moment. I could tell he wanted to look back at me, but he didn't, "I'll call you," he said as he left the room closing the door behind him.

My car, my vintage Mustang, got a good chunk of change for it. Lewis kept his promise and found a buyer. The check for 18,000 dollars was cashed and I had to celebrate. Not with Lewis or any of my friends, strangers were easier, no need for explanations. All that I have given up and all that I have lost, I really didn't care, however for the first time in my life I was thinking and worrying about only one person, myself.

Sometimes in life, things seem to just get worse. Like the fire that claimed my apartment building. Though my apartment was not burned, it received a great deal of smoke damage and the fire department, whose only concern is to extinguish the fire, the water damage was very costly. I was able to retrieve most of my personal possessions. The building would not be ready to occupy for at least a month. The current residents were given the option to terminate their lease, not sure how many others did, I did. After all, the monthly rent was cutting into my finances, I had no income. I used some of the money that I received for my car to pay off bills. I was thankful that I was never a big spender. I was left with 10 grand, how long that would last was anyone's guess. I did however; neglect paying the monthly premium on my car insurance, I wasn't worried about that, my car was gone.

It was the first week in August that I moved in with Jake and Ashley. I met them in the winter, through Frank, and have from time to time spent many weekends with them. I of course never revealed to them how much money I had, yes I still had a little sense to know when to keep quiet. Ashley uses her body to get what she needs and I have concluded that Jake does also; yes, it is a nasty life.

**September 2007**

Ashley and I may be sitting at the same table, but we don't speak to one another, we have nothing of importance to talk about. We could hear a low moan from Jake. Ashley tapped my arm. "Good, I thought he was dead," she said so matter of fact.

His moan sounded more as if he was having trouble breathing. Though I was so self-absorbed in my own life, I still found it hard to just let someone be when I felt that they were in trouble, I stood immediately. I picked up Jake's arm and found what I was searching for, a pulse. "His heart rate is slow," I said. Ashley was now standing next to me. A slow heart rate is to be expected from a heroin user. I released my hold of his wrist and tapped his face, "Jake, wake up." His eyes fluttered open. I stood, and as I walked back toward the kitchen I said without emotion, "He's fine."

The night has come into the city and this day was a repeat of the day before and day before that. The only concern I had was to satisfy myself. Haven't read a paper or listened to the news in months, whatever was going on in the world outside of this apartment, I didn't care.

**....More to Come....**

**....Soon....**


	6. Chapter 6

**Anybody out there ever see the movie 'Clue'? Well whether you have or haven't, the movie has three different endings. Many times I seem to have two different endings to my fics. So this time I decided to post both of them. Maybe you will enjoy one of them.**

**PLEASE READ THE AUTHORS NOTE ABOVE AND AT THE END.**

**I must thank the program 'Intervention' for it's help in writing this chapter and my favorite interventionist Ken Seeley.**

**Six**

**October 2007**

This Thursday morning was the same as the Thursday before, I sat alone at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of instant coffee, yes it tasted like shit. But it was warm, the day outside was sunny but unusually cold for October in New York

I switched on the radio, to fill the deafening silence in the room. My roommates were still asleep. After a familiar tune played the DJ on the radio announced the time. "Shit, nine-thirty already," I said aloud.

"What?" Ashley asks as she enters the kitchen.

I turned my head to face her, "Christ Ashley make some noise when you walk into a room."

"Sorry," she said more as a way to appease me. She picked up the pack of cigarettes that were lying on the table and removed one, "You never answered me, why shit, it's nine-thirty already."

"I have to see someone; it has something to do with Frank." I picked up the pack of cigarettes and tapped it until one fell into my hand. I lit it on my way across the kitchen, through the so-called living room. "Later," I took a long drag then blew out a lung full of smoke, "Frank, what a loser."

Steven Sanchez, a friend of mine and a lawyer, who is currently helping Frank with his legal problems, called me yesterday. After much pleading on Franks behalf, Steven convinced me to meet him and Frank at his office. At first I wondered how he got my number, then it hit me, Frank gave it to him.

When I opened the door to his office the reception room was filled with people, I almost turned away to leave, not wanting to enter. Familiar faces were gazing at me. I knew what was going to happen. My brother was the first person to greet me, imagine him talking to me about my addiction, part of me was ashamed, not about what I was doing but that I never thought to do it for him.

As I scanned the faces and made eye contact, each person stood and greeted me with a handshake or a hug. Lewis, though we have been friends for thirty years, gave me a hug. To be honest it felt a little weird. Alex's parents were there, they tried for months to get me to leave my apartment and share an evening, or a day with them, like I did when Alex was alive. I always enjoyed on afternoon with her family, they were loving people and always made me feel welcome and they knew how to throw a great party. John stood and shook my hand, Sara reached up and gave me a hug. Deakins was there, was not at all surprised to see him, he put himself out for me many months ago but I wasn't ready for what he had to offer, now he is here to try again. My mother was there, looking thin and weak but she stood with the aide of Deakins and gave me a hug, a lot tighter than I thought she had the strength for. Steven moved from the corner chair and shook my hand. He too gave me a quick hug.

There was a stranger amongst this group, he introduced himself to me, "My name is Ken, Ken Seeley. A little overwhelmed at seeing all these people here?" I just nodded my head as I sat down on the couch between my mother and my brother. "They miss you and they care about you. They are afraid that if you continue to go the way your are that they are going to lose you." If I was suppose to respond to him, I didn't. "Your brother has something he wants to say to you."

I sat forward in the seat when I heard that, "My brother?" I glared at Ken, as I spoke. "You mean this guy here?" I pointed to him like a hitchhiker. "Who time after time comes to me with his problems." Not only was my temper rising, my body was as well, I stood. "You know why he is here," I pointed my finger at my mother, "And why she is here?" I turned my gaze back to Ken.

He didn't back away, he sat erect in the chair as he answered me, "Tell me."

"Because they are afraid."

"What are they afraid of, Bobby?"

I stared at my brother, he turned his head away, "That for once in their lives they might have to take care of themselves." I started to pace around the room, Ken sat in the chair, all his attention was on me. "You see I'm not good enough to get attention from her, but I'm good to take care of her, take care of both of them. Does she ever thank me for all that I have done? Day after day, year after fucking year...." I had to pause for a moment my heart was racing and I felt lightheaded. No one spoke, they sat quiet and still in their seats waiting for me to continue. My Mother's head was bowed down but she knew I was now standing in front of her. "I'm your son, not your caretaker, no matter how much I did, it was never good enough for you. Time and time again you compared me to him," I leaned down, she didn't lift her head, "Well, here he is, it's his turn, because I'm out of here."

As I turned and took a step toward the door, I saw Deakins stand and so did Steve, "Sit your ass back down." Steve said commanding. I turned to face them and they looked as if they would tackle me if I opened the door.

"You running away rather than confront your obstacles?" Ken said.

"I've confronted them, weren't you listening?"

"I can understand how that might bother you, but you're stronger than that and you and I both know that there is more to it than that." I stuffed my hands in my pockets. The fight was suddenly stifled inside of me. I could see Deakins resume his seat and Steve lean his shoulder up against the wall. I slowly walked back to the spot on the couch I occupied only minutes ago. If my mother and brother were waiting for me to apologize for my outburst, they were going to have to wait a long time.

My mother linked her arm in mine, "I love you, you know that, right?"

I nodded my head as I patted her hand, "Yes, but sometimes that isn't enough."

She clutched my arm tighter, "Scream and yell at me all you want but I wasn't the one that picked up that needle and pointed it at your arm. You did that. You want to blame me, maybe I am a part of the problem but I am not going to sit back and let you destroy yourself, you are too special."

Everyone heard me say, "Yeah right."

"Unfortunately it took you to a bad place to hear these things from your Mom, do you doubt her word?" Ken asks.

I wasn't sure and I said so.

"You're right," Frank said so softly that I couldn't make out the words.

"What?" I had to ask.

He shook his head, "Everything you said was right. I've depended on you and the one time that I should have been the strong one....I failed."

"I would have found another Roscoe."

"I know but I stayed silent, even if it didn't change the outcome I should have said something, I'm sorry. I'm the clean and sober one and I still had to run to you for help and what did you do? You helped me, just like always."

When I caught my brother's eye I could see a tear, the cynical side of me wondered, is that tear was for the brother that he may lose? Or himself for the quilt that he feels. The thought came and went, I reached over and we hugged like only brothers could. I broke away from him, wiping the tears from my own eyes. The box of tissues that lay on the table was passed around the room.

"Jimmy you have something to say to Bobby." Ken stated.

"I wrote this letter," Deakins voice came through amidst a sea of tears. "But...." he folded the paper in his hand and stuffed it in his pocket. "I did try to help you once, but I should have known at the time it was futile but I had to do something. I honesty thought you would be able to get yourself out of this. But day after day I sat in my office and watched a brave and brilliant man disappear. That is why I'm here now, to let you know that you are worth saving and to give you another chance to change your life. You have a choice to make Bobby, leave this room and destroy more of yourself or take this gift and get the help that you need. Will you?"

Everyone had their eyes on me waiting for an answer, I remained quiet.

"I never sold the car," Lewis said, all eyes turned to him.

"What?" Was the only brilliant word I could think to say at the time.

"I bought it, I was hoping that one day soon you would want it back. I know it's just a car but I also know how much it meant to you. Something that you built yourself, is a hard thing to give away. If you were in your right mind that day you never would have asked me to do it. I wasn't going to sell your car to a stranger, because the guy that I saw and talked to that day was a stranger. Now I hope that today you are the guy I have known for thirty years and I pray that you will take this gift."

"These people are here because they care about you Bobby," Ken said. "No one had to be asked more than once if they wanted to come."

"Well," John Eames said. "What Ken said is right, we are here because we care about you. You have been and are very good at shutting people out of your life." I gave him a stern frown. "Alex told us, she would complain to us about you from time to time but the one thing that she admired about you was your strength. It took her a long time to understand you." I smiled at this man, who's wife was holding his hand. "She trusted you and though you, what did she say? Your approach to how you do things is definitely unique but you are a caring and considerate man. She never doubted your loyalty to her and Sara and I found you to be not only a great partner to her but a good friend, to all of us. If Alex was here she would ask you to please accept this gift, hell we are asking you."

Ken spoke, "Jimmy told me that a few months ago he had made arrangements at Harbor house, they are still waiting for you." Ken stood, "I will take you there, now."

"You have to do this Bobby," I heard Steve's voice. "I....we all miss you and maybe we are selfish but we want you back." He stood erect and began walking toward me, "Are you going to go?"

I nodded my head as I answered in a soft voice, "Yes, I'll go."

**January 2008**

I never worked so hard in my life, opening up to strangers was indeed easier but it took me a few weeks to let it all hang out. I remained at the house for 90 days. Lewis agreed to pick me up and I had to take a double take as I recognized the car he was driving. He tossed me the keys, "You drive," he said.

Without hesitation I walked with a swift gait to the driver's side and opened the door. "I'll pay you back, every dime." I said as I started the car.

Lewis sat back in the seat, I saw the stupid grin on his face. In years past I would have teased him about it, but not today.

Steve found me an apartment only a few blocks away from the one I had. I had moved all the furniture into a storage facility. All that happened in the past few months I had forgotten about it and had to pay for five months of rental space. With the help of Steve and Lewis I moved into my new place on the 11th day of January.

Two weeks after I moved into my new apartment, my mother passed away. I was, as I knew I would be, holding her hand as she closed her eyes and left this world. Where was Frank? Well actually I didn't care anymore, he had to live with the quilt of not being there for her.

I toyed with the idea of whether or not to return to work. I was only 46 years old and I was not independently wealthy and too old, I thought to start another career. Now that my mind was clear and sharp I missed the mystery and the intrigue of investigating. I was slightly worried that my interrogation skills might be a little rusty, no matter. I returned and after 36 hours, my new partner and I solved out first case.

Deakins puffed out chest and smile was hard not to notice, but he was proud of me and also proud of himself that he did not turn his back on me, when many other men in his position would have. I was grateful and I did my best to make sure that he would not be disappointed in me, hell if he had that much faith in me, well it flowed over and I was even stronger than I was before.

**February**

"Sorry I haven't been to visit in a while, I had to go somewhere. Somewhere," I ran my fingers through my hair. "I was a mess but after the experience I think I learned a little something about myself. I should think a little more about me. Yes, I am just as important as anyone else. Never really felt that way the last 46 years of my life," I told her as I placed the carnation on the ground. "I never thought I could get myself into a mess like that but you want to know something? It's easy, the drugs do all the thinking for you. Little by little and day by day you slowly turn into someone else. You don't notice it of course but all the people around you do and they have no clue how to handle it, it happens so fast."

I stuffed my hands in my pocket and kicked away a small rock with my foot. "Good news though, I had a great week, first time in a long time. I think I ….Deakins has finally found me a partner that I can tolerate," I laughed aloud, thank God no one was near. "Or should I say she can tolerate." I flashed a smile, trying to imagine what Alex would say to that line. "Pity the fool, right?" I let out a soft chuckle. "I still miss you and...." I hated to admit defeat. "No matter how hard and long I searched, I couldn't find Fulton. I'm not going to look for him anymore. Hopefully he will meet justice one day, the day he leaves this world and finds himself burning in hell." I paused as the clouds seem to disappear and the sun poked it's way through. The rays seem to envelope me and a feeling of calm and peacefulness rushed through my body. Though it was close to 30 degrees on this February afternoon I felt warm. As if something was shielding me from the cold. I opened up my coat.

"My Mom died a few weeks ago, hope she finally finds peace. Frank," I expelled a short breath. "Well he has once again vanished, I've been looking for him and when I find him." I unconsciously raised my voice, "I'll do for him what he did for me." I raised my head to soak up some more of that warm, beautiful sunshine. "I gotta go, I have to go," I shook my head. "No I want to go to a substance abuse meeting, at first I didn't think it was necessary but, well it is and it helps to know that you are not the only person to fall into a life where drugs control your very existence." I stood erect feeling proud of myself for my recent accomplishments. "See you next week, Alex."

…**.Well it could end that way....**

**I have another ending for this story and I will post it in a few days. **

**Check it out if you are so inclined.**

**Later**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Here is number two, now this ending is of the supernatural and spiritual genre. **

**This chapter was inspired by the novel 'Lovely Bones' by Alice Sebold.**

**Seven**

**October 2007**

I could hear my brother, he was calling my name, "Bobby, come on man," many a time I have heard fear in Frank's voice and he was scared, but why? Someone, probably Frank, was shaking me, "Bobby, wake up, wake up!"

I tried to respond but I couldn't, why not?

"The cops are on the way." A woman said.

The cops, what the hell for? I heard sirens and then the room was filled with chatter, not bar room chatter. I couldn't see them but I could hear them. They were speaking to my brother. I heard Frank say, "He's, he's my brother, help him...you have to help him," he screamed.

"Sir," I could hear sobs, Frank was crying, for me. Why? "We will, Sir, please calm down. Paramedics are on the way. Move that bar stool."

Paramedics? Why? Who is that? A cop?

"Did anyone see the shooter?"

The shooter? Who got shot? Was it me? I don't feel any pain, maybe I'm dreaming.

"He ran out the back door, he walked right up to him and fired," I knew that voice it was Tom the bartender.

"Did he say anything?"

"Yes Officer," Tom continued. "He said, heard you were looking for me, well you found me, too bad you won't be able to do anything about it. Then he shot him, twice."

It is me….I was shot….by Fulton, Fulton I screamed but no one heard me. I repeated….Fulton. Though I had stopped looking for him we happened upon one another that night at Murphy's bar, I was high and so was he. He recognized me; I on the other hand didn't notice him at all, until he tapped me on the shoulder. There wasn't much of a confrontation, that son of bitch shot me.

Frank and I were spending the evening together, his legal problems have been put away and though he did have to give back all the money he testified against Ben Irwin and was put on probation, he still gambles and drinks every now and then.

I heard another set of sirens, "People move out of the way, let the paramedics do their job."

"This guy knew my brother and he," I could hear his voice cracking. "He just shot him, didn't even blink an eye. That sick bastard shot my brother! Find him!"

"Calm down Sir, can you tell me what he looked like?"

Yes, I tried to scream it was Fulton.

Frank was obviously unable to speak, Tom answered, "He was about my height, long blonde hair and a beard."

"Any scars or tattoos?"

"No, but he had a limp," Tom answered.

Someone was touching my arm, I felt my shirtsleeve being pulled up, "He's a junkie," a male voice said.

"That doesn't matter now." Someone responded from the other side of my body. "I don't see an exit wound. He was shot twice once in the chest and once in the back."

Fulton you prick you shot me in the back.

Someone was wrapping something around my arm, then I felt pressure, a few moments later the voice said, "BP is 100 over 50."

I felt that but why didn't I fell any pain from the wound.

The voices came closer and they knew my name, but the voices were of strangers. "Bobby, open you eyes." The voice commanded. I tried to comply but I could not.

"Does anyone know the shooters name?" A strange voice asked, sounding very official. Mumbles were heard then someone spoke up.

"Yes I know, Officer." I know that voice, it was Deakins. "I'm James Deakins," he paused for a moment, probably showing the other man his badge.

"Captain?" The man who was probably a cop said surprisingly.

"The victim," he paused. "Is a friend of mine, his brother is the one that called me."

"Why?" The Officer asks.

"I'm not really sure, maybe he was scared of the consequences, from the description I would say that the man you are looking for is Louis Fulton, he has been on the run for close to two years for shooting Detective Alex Eames."

"Goren." The Officer said sadly.

"Yes," Deakins answered.

I was being moved, where were they taking me? Men and women continued to speak but their voices became fainter and fainter.

Soon after another voice, a man's voice, was talking to me, trying very hard to get me to look at him, I tried but it was useless. "You people have to get out of here, please Officer get them out of here." I could hear voices in protest but then the voices were silent.

"Doctor his pulse rate is 30 and his BP is 60 over 45." I felt hands and cold instruments on my body.

"The bullet pierced his kidney and is lodged in his spine." I heard a strange noise, as if someone was shaking plastic. "See here, the bullet barely missed his heart."

"Here is the other X-ray from the side, Doctor."

"Thank you."

Again I heard shaking plastic, they were looking at X-rays.

"I've seen this injury before; he will most likely be paralyzed from the waist down for the rest of his life."

Paralyzed, No! I tried to move my legs but I couldn't, my chest was hurting.

"His pulse rate is dropping, he's in cardiac arrest, we're losing him!" a woman's' voice exclaims.

I wasn't sure where I was but I have never felt so calm, peaceful, and serene; whatever adjective describes a feeling of total tranquility. I felt no more pain in my mind or my body, I felt strong and healthy, and no worries just like a little kid. I stood completely still as my keen eye scanned the area. There was no one there but me, I took a step forward, and smirked. I felt as if someone or something was pulling me toward them. After a few steps, I heard my name being called, from two different directions. One in front of me and one behind, one voice was familiar the other was not.

I didn't analyze the situation I just kept walking forward, away from the unfamiliar voice. I stopped and a feeling of elation intertwined with tranquility filled my body and my mind. I still could hear the two different voices, the one behind me was getting fainter, and the one before me was getting louder.

She shook her head and offered a smile, "What have you done?"

I couldn't answer her because I had no clue as to what she was referring, so I asked. "Done, what did I do?"

She raised her small hand and pointed for me to look behind. I didn't want too, but the look on her face assured me that it would be all right. The inquisitive side of me had to look and I saw the body that belonged to the voice that was calling my name. He was dressed in a white smock, "A Doctor," I said aloud. Before I had a chance to turn, back to face her, she was beside me. "Alex, I don't understand." I wanted to take her hand but for some reason I couldn't move my arm.

"They are calling you back, Bobby."

Just the way she said my name was a welcome and much missed sound. "Back?" was the only word I could think to ask.

"Yes, they want you back."

I started to shake my head quickly, "No, I don't want to go back, I can't...they've taken all I had to give, I don't have anything left." This time, I was able to raise my arm and I took her hand in mine. "I want to stay here with you," I said and for the first time it sounded so natural and it was easy to say. I looked down as my hand completely covered hers, I had to smile, yes a smile, and it had been a long, long time since I smiled.

She squeezed my hand and with a little tug she guided we away from the man in the white smock. I didn't hear his voice anymore.

Together, we would be together forever. This is where I wanted and needed to be, always by her side.

**Ok, there you have it, now the first ending was more down to earth, LOL.... but I do enjoy a little fantasy now and then. Hope you enjoyed one of them or maybe both of them. **

**For you Non-shippers, Oh well.**

**....Till Next time....Later....**

**The Mominator**


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